Hindsight
by Penmaster51
Summary: Waking up from a nightmare is escape. Waking up to a new world? Shocking. Brooke learned this the hard way. It wouldn't be so bad if everyone just told her what happened! Also explain why she's always thinking about Chris and old faces keep showing up.
1. Chapter One

******DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**A/N: "Hindsight" is the sequel to "Premonition"-before you start reading this, I highly suggestion reading that one first!**

**Anyways, greetings to hopefully many readers/reviewers from "Premonition"! Hopefully you guys will enjoy "Hindsight" just as much as you guys enjoyed the other one! I hope you like it :)**

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Chris remembered Victor chasing after them in the car, Brooke saving him and then… blank. Completely blank; like a shiny new piece of paper. He groaned as he propped himself up on his elbows, his body sore and tender all over. He felt like he was tossed around roughly for a while. He didn't open his eyes, trying to make his head stop spinning.

When he did.

"Holy shit," he breathed, looking around like a frightened deer in headlights. Where was he? Where is the crashed car? The road…Victor. Where was Victor? He glanced around nervously, his head looking in every direction. The trees were different, there was dry dirt underneath him and… Victor was nowhere to be seen.

He rubbed his throbbing head, suddenly remembering Brooke. He spun around, kicking up a cloud of dirt when he frantically looked for her. Peering around the very alive tree (he had a feeling it was Heaven), he found her unconscious and laying in the grass. Sweat dribbled down her brow and her face was sickly pale… Chris felt his own pale too.

"Brooke?" he whispered, stepping lightly over to her and pressed his shaking fingers to her cheeks. Burning hot; he pulled them back immediately and tried to wake her up. Unable too, Chris sat down next to her and tried to clear his head.

For a moment, he felt like it was too much. Way too much. He didn't have a clue where they were, where the car, Victor and every other goddamn detail that was here a second ago was, and Brooke was sick. He let his face fall into his hands, sitting there for long moments. Well, only one thing was for sure anymore: he had to find help. Any help; just help for Brooke, for them… getting slowly up, Chris realized something.

He couldn't just leave her here. That's stupid and rude and…

"Money," he whispered, digging into his almost always empty pockets. A few lint balls; that'll get him nothing. He glanced at Brooke's pockets.

Taking a deep breath, trying to gather his courage, he dug into her pockets and found a little bit of money. Hopefully he could find a phone or some type of communication. But still, that didn't help with Brooke's health…

"Crap," he muttered, sitting back down on the ground.

He wasn't taking this too well. He just wanted to be back at his trailer, back at the circus and performing cheap acts to get a few bucks just enough to hopefully get him through the week for food and payment. But Brooke…

He scooted up to the tree, pressing his back against it, stretched his legs and sat there, trying to gather up his thoughts. Same as always; nothing but a jumbled, chaotic mess. Blinking, he sighed and decided to pull Brooke closer. He didn't care if she was sick, if he would get sick or they would get eaten by… whatever could possibly live in the woods before them. He was staying right here; perhaps some nice soul will help them. After hopefully placing Brooke in a bit more comfortable position, Chris allowed himself to bow his head, hanging it unhappily.

What's this?

He twirled the lock of his hair in his fingers. He hadn't had longer hair since… since, for a while! Hair doesn't grow just over night like this. Never like this. He stared at Brooke, realizing it before. Her curls seemed almost wild and everywhere- she normally had her hair under control. It was past her shoulders too; she rarely let that happen also. Chris gulped.

"Brooke, what have we gotten ourselves into?"

xXx

"Professor, have you figured out where they are?" The African-American woman asked, her luscious snowy white hair sitting passed her shoulders. She wore simple clothing but they seemed to fit perfectly with her natural curves.

"Storm, we must allow them some time before…"

The professor stopped talking, his normal calm face pulled into a deep frown. The woman, Storm, shifted behind him nervously; having Professor Xavier frown was never good. She stared at Cerebro as he concentrated slightly on the couple he had found out. One had shifted a moment ago but now had stopped. It was odd.

"What's wrong?"

"One of them has yet to move, Storm. And I believe they are in need of our help before anyone happens to stumble upon them. Could you and Jean go find them? I can get their coordinates for you."

Storm shifted again, staring up at the lit up screen. She couldn't say no to the professor but she didn't have a clue about these people; she didn't know if they were good or bad, friendly or anti-social. Perhaps they actually knew-

"Storm?" Professor Xavier asked, turning to her in his wheelchair.

She shook her head, getting it out of the clouds and said, "Yes Professor. We'll take the Blackbird and find them."

xXx

Chris woke up very hungry, even more sore than last night and just… tired. He realized he was lying on his side and rolled to his right, seeing a still very unconscious Brooke. He felt terribly stupid for not trying to get help yesterday but then again…

He felt her forehead, relieved that she seemed at normal temperature or at least, felt like it. He went back to being flat on his back, blowing his bangs out of the way. It was odd and kind of funny having those again. Anyways, his stomach rumbled. Immediately, he thought about heading back to his trailer to get something to eat then remembered what happened or really, they weren't near his trailer or the circus at all.

Still, his stomach didn't get the hint. It growled angrily and he groaned, clutching it. It felt like years since he's eaten. Still, there's Brooke to worry about…

"Brooke," he whispered, shaking her shoulder.

"Damn it," he swore quietly, getting up and wiping the dirt and grass off his pants after finding another failure to wake her up. She was unconscious, he thinks but there…her eyelashes fluttered! So did his heart. Ignoring the incredibly odd feeling he got around her, Chris decided to venture out onto the road again. There had to be someone near here!

Running a hand through his hair, he climbed out and onto the road, glancing around warily. He was still waiting for Wade or Zero to appear, just ready to kill him and Brooke. Or Victor… a shiver ran down his spine and he shook his head, trying to ignore that morbid thought. No, they're gone- some how, some way.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets, taking in the scene around him. A dense woodsy area; thick, spring foliage above him and the sky was a baby blue with few little clouds just floating on by. A beautiful day- if he knew where he was or that Brooke was awake.

Then he heard it.

It was the almost silent sound of a plane. And not any plane he's heard before. He glanced up, blocking the sun out of his eyes and trying to spot the plane. When he did get a glimpse of it, all he could do was…

"Whoa…" he gasped, staring at the black streak that zoomed above him for a moment before disappearing. He blinked and then rubbed his eyes, starting to feel the worry rise in his body.

He was definitely not in Ohio anymore. And perhaps…he glanced up at the sky, wondering where the majestic plane went. Where he came from, planes were noisy; he had to be… out of the country or something…

Feeling uneasy, he snuck back to Brooke. Then his stomach growled again.

"Shut up," he complained, curling in a ball next to Brooke.

**Please review if you can/want too!**


	2. Chapter Two

******DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**A/N: *flails arms around helplessly* I'm terribly sorry for such a long pause! I just had a lot of stuff in life that had to get sorted & done with XD Isn't life such a hassle sometimes? lol. Anyways, here's chapter two-we're only on chapter two? GAH *is quite irritated at that*. Anyways with it being summer & all, my schedule is going to be like it's on drugs... all over the place XD So I'll update when I can ;)**

**Read. Enjoy. Review. Thanks!**

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Only minutes, though, passed by before he couldn't take the hunger any longer. Maybe that plane landed or some restaurant was nearby… he'd have to leave Brooke behind. Though it felt like the ultimate betrayal for him (he was after all, leaving her unconscious and unprotected), he did try to make himself feel better.

_You're getting food and maybe she'll be awake when you get back…_

Chris had a gut feeling that was full of false hope. But it wouldn't hurt to try and scavenge, right? He started to walk down the road, his head bowed and trying to look… normal. His mutant power didn't stand out or make him appear physically different, but it's like trying to act oblivious to something that you already knew about. He's a mutant; he didn't know how this place would take that. He didn't know where the hell he was!

That bothered him. That bothered him a lot.

After an eternity of walking, Chris realized he was getting nowhere. Sighing, he turned around and started heading back when he heard the footsteps… and voices. Female voices.

"Professor said they're possibly really confused and nervous."

"I would be too, Storm, if I had traveled like that…"

"Jean, you know that's only a guess by the Professor." The woman, Chris guessed was Storm, responded.

"True, but when is the Professor wrong?"

There was no answer. Maybe Chris didn't hear it; he was already racing back to Brooke like he was going to get killed. God, why did he have to walk for so long? He reached Brooke flushed and panting, but hopefully before those two women. He didn't know whom they were talking about but something said Brooke and him. He's probably just being paranoid. Maybe he wasn't. Who knows? He was wanted Brooke to wake up, they eat something and then go back home…

Several long moments passed as Chris' racing heart slowed down. He tore off his bright orange shirt off, remembering how Stryker was always rambling on about camouflage and the element of surprise and perhaps some other crap… all Chris knew was that he was in bright clothing and even with the thick foliage, he knew he would stand out very easily against the green.

He could see if they had any electronics…

Pressing his fingers to his temple, he searched for the buzz of energy that told him of something. Locating an unknown electronic to him, he started to play with it. He could hear the beeping and calling and just plain noise coming off one of the women. That means they're very close…

"Looks like we have a electrokinetic on our hands," the other woman, Jean, said loudly to Storm.

Chris shook his head, prepared to run after he stopped messing around with the electronic. He was about to sprint off when he remembered Brooke. He couldn't leave her! But he wasn't a fighter; he shuddered at the thoughts of holding those awful guns and having to watch Wade, Zero, and just practically everyone else kill…

"We're not here to hurt you," Storm called out.

_That's what they all say_, he thought bitterly. But he had to trust them; they may be the only people they- well, he- may see for some time. He had to trust them; he was going to. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out and faced the woman.

One had striking red hair, short and spiky. Very odd- and what was even weirder, was her clothing. They were completely and totally different from Chris and Brooke's clothing. He tilted his head, feeling a huge headache coming on. The other woman had a warm chocolate skin and snow white, thick hair. He wasn't sure what to make of these women and by the looks in their eyes, they had an idea what to do with him.

He gulped nervously. "W-who are you?"

The red head smiled. "I'm Jean Grey."

"I'm Storm," said the white-haired woman.

Storm and Jean; different and particular names… none he had ever come across. He glanced over them for a moment, trying to figure out what they wanted, who did they work for and just other bits of information…

"Was that you?" Storm asked.

"Huh?" Chris immediately came back to reality, realizing he was rambling on in his head.

"Making my cell phone go crazy?" She was hesitant with her questions, Chris noted. Why? Did he look insane… yeah, he probably did.

"A cell phone?" he asked.

_Uh… what the hell is that?_

Storm pulled out this sleek and very expensive looking device. She flipped it open and immediately it started to go haywire in his presence. It took him a minute but he realized- _he_ was doing that. And without… control…at all.

"This," she flipped it and played with the little keyboard on it, "is a cell phone."

"Professor said not to overload them. They've probably been through a lot since they've been here…" Jean whispered, glancing at Storm.

Again, with the Professor! Chris wasn't whether to trust these women or get the hell out of there. Flee? Meet them and get to know them? Who was Professor? And right on cue, there came a headache. The small pounding in his head made the _cell phone_ act crazy again. Storm frowned, quickly pressed a button and it turned off. Chris heard it beep or something- then it started up again.

"Sorry," he muttered.

Then there was a groan. Brooke! He spun around the tree, seeing her eyes flutter in an irregular pattern. Chris fell next to her, feeling her forehead and hoping that she was burning. His wishes were diminished; her forehead was hot once more.

"Is she sick?" Jean asked. Chris whipped around to face them, feeling anger, surprise, and uneasiness all bubble up inside of him at the same time.

"Yes." He answered, touching her burning cheeks with his cool fingertips.

"We can help her," Storm said, staring at him with complete honesty in her eyes.

_Can I trust you? _Chris thought, his eyes flickering between them.

As if Jean read his mind, she said, "Yes you can."

That's all Chris needed to hear. And so he started to tell his tale to Storm as Jean brought over the "Blackbird" (the black plane- "Jet", Storm said- that flew past him earlier) to take them to "the school". All Chris could hope for was that: she'll be okay.


	3. Chapter Three

******DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**A/N: **Update, yes? Lol. Very short chapter. Also, more than likely I may try a narrative point of view again. It was quite interesting kind-of playing Chris's character :3 The only character I've actually ever written from their POV (and were not part of my many many OC collection, hehe) was Griffin O'Connor from Jumper. Apparently, to many I had truly caputered his bad-ass, selfish, aroggant, agressive, tempermental character- according to my reviewers.

But- HEH. This story is about X-men and X-men, you shall have :D Enjoy. Read. Review! Thanks ;) (double post today because I absolutely loathe short chapters unless they're uplodaded daily & in this story's case, that's not always...the caseXD) Yes... I also realize this Author's note is just about as long as the chapter XD

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I thought I was okay.

No, I thought I was dead. It was peaceful at first. Beautiful. I saw so many colors before I was just… floating around in my head; that's the easiest to explain how I felt. Then suddenly, a raging fire tore through me. I suddenly became hot one second, then cold and hot again. I felt my body just became drench in my sweat from this fever but I had no control.

I was aware I wasn't… there. Before… whatever this is. That's it. I couldn't move. I could breathe. That's it.

I couldn't hear anything and I couldn't see anything. I could only feel; that's only how conscious I was. I felt Chris's touch to my face, the feeling of how I wanted to ask him so many questions but my throat, lips and mouth wouldn't move. I felt lost when I didn't feel him.

That only gave me one option: I was alive.

Death wouldn't be a fire unless I was in Hell. But wasn't in Hell, you could see? Or was this my punishment? Did I have a special place in Hell because of what I did? I was and forever will be, a part of Team X. They made me who I am today, no matter how much I refused to hear it.

Where is Chris?

Suddenly, the fire died. Slowly, very slowly like it was creeping back but prepared to attack again if needed. I was becoming one again with my body. I felt the urge to flick and tap my fingers, to wiggle my toes and nose, to walk and speak. But my body wasn't ready. So instead, it waited. My mind wanted to move faster but I couldn't physically.

Suddenly, I felt my body be moved. My mind panicked but I lost focus on that. Thoughts seem to muddle and mix together in my head; the fever was really getting to me. Still, I set aside the emotion for later on. I focused on the fever, trying to almost fight it. My gosh, I was going crazy. Whatever I did, I really messed up my head. I wasn't… staying…

I started to hear the voices before anything. My ears suddenly seemed tuned into the unfamiliar voices around me.

"How is she doing Jean?"

"Better. Heartbeat seems to be coming back to normal. I suppose the whole transport must've taken a toll on her and she almost, escaped to her mind. I'm pretty sure she'll be aware of her surroundings sooner or later- or at least, start hearing us and her body responding."

The clip-clop of heels left wherever Jean and I were.

Jean? That's an odd name. Then again, I'm named after a babbling stream with a 'E' at the end, so I couldn't really say anything. I laid there, just feeling my chest rise up and down… up and down and the sounds of quiet voices once in a while, the beeping of unknown machines.

Suddenly, there was a voice. A strong, mental voice- I thought I was going crazy.

_Brooke._

My name. That's my name. I squirmed, suddenly feeling very alive and I felt the ache of my body. I was afraid. I scooted back into my corner of my head, afraid of the voice. I was afraid of the ache, the pain that my body suddenly seemed to allow me to become aware of.

_Wake up Brooke. It's okay now. You are safe from Victor._

The voice knew his name. My enemy-Victor. I could trust the voice. But what if it's a lie? What if it's a scam, a scandal to get me to wake up and feel this enormous pain? Hesitation came to me as I edged further away from my corner. Suddenly, I was sprinting. I was racing like all hell was after me. Then I dove; off what and into what, I don't know. I was going mental, that's all.

Then I suddenly landed. I breathed and my eyes opened to a brand new, scary world.


	4. Chapter Four

******DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**A/N: First off, a big thanks to My Beautiful Ending; you know I love reading your reviews :D Anyways, yes I forgot the second double post- but a cliffhanger is always good for a story, no? Anyways, this is a nice fat (if not a filler chapter, bare with me for a few chapters) chapter, hopefully you'll enjoy it :)**

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The lights blinded me and I groaned, feeling my very aching muscles. My body twitched and wiggled without my concern. I was out of it now, I was in this new territory and my sense were overloading. There a woman stood, with bright red hair. She stared at me, in completely shock and awe.

"You're awake…" she murmured.

I glanced around, seeing the completely different… everything. My head went haywire. I didn't know where I was, I didn't know what all this stuff was and I didn't know who she was… Chris. Where is Chris?

She stared at me.

I opened my mouth and bolted all hell out of there. I still had my old clothing on and it still smelled of Ohio; everything here smelled completely different. I tore through the pure silver hallways, wondering why I was here, what these people wanted and where was Chris! My feet flew and I took a turn, spinning right into another woman. She had white hair and light chocolate skin; her white hair startled me and at first, I thought she was elderly. But she could've been younger than me- she probably was.

I gasped. She tilted her head slightly and she said something.

"Uh…" I started, staring at her. My head was throbbing.

"I'm Storm," she started slowly, offering her hand to me.

I glared at it in almost disgust. Then the voice came back. _Trust her. She won't hurt you._ I glanced around nervously then accepted her offer and she helped me up.

"Are you okay?" Her words were slow, like she was talking to someone half deaf.

"I'm fine and I'm also not deaf," I murmured, pulling my back straight and stared at her. My god, she was tall! She nodded to herself, glancing over me.

"I'm sorry," she said, speaking normally.

"It's okay Storm…" Her name was odd, along with her snow white hair but I've seen odder things and she seemed warm and kind; I felt like I could trust her. But old habits die hard and being wary was one of them. "I'm Brooke."

She smiled. Then the red-hair woman came back, walking fast and slowed down immediately when she saw the two of us. I blushed, my cheeks turning bright red. I felt like a complete idiot for running around like that. I shifted my weight, glancing at both of them. But I had a lot of questions and I was going to make sure someone would answer them.

"This is Jean," Storm said. Suddenly, I remembered the conversation I had heard earlier on. I glanced at her uneasily, still feeling quite embarrassed.

"Come on, I have to make sure you're okay," Jean said.

Feeling like a lost little child, I followed her. That's what I was right now, wasn't it? I didn't know where I am, where this place is and who these people are besides their names. I was lost and had nowhere to go so I could only follow. I knew I didn't exactly care for the feeling but if they're willing to be fair and not accuse me of anything besides being lost, I can't accuse them of anything.

Jean must've been apparently been some type of doctor or nurse of some sort. She checked me over easily and quickly came to the decision I was perfectly healthy, if not a bit mentally stressed. My eyes wandered the room for heartbeats as Jean cleaned all of her doctor-y things. The rooms, the walls, everything seemed so… futuristic. The word made my blood freeze for some reason.

Jean came from a small closet and handed me some brand new, odd clothing. I pulled it on, kicking away my bloody other pieces. But I didn't have the heart to part with them. So Jean put them in a bag and set them in a corner, away from everything.

"The Professor will probably want to see you now," Jean said, looking up from her small table holding her things and looked at me. I stared at her, completely lost on who's 'The Professor'. She smiled and said, "He's the professor of this place- we're a school. For people like…"

"Mutants," I breathed.

She nodded.

"Didn't have this back in Ohio, that's for sure. Okay, let's go meet Mr. Professor," I said, looking up at her and nodding. She smiled again and then left, leaving me to follow her.

She weaved through another set of silver hallways and then came to a wall. Then she pressed something, some type of button and doors opened, revealing an elevator. She stepped in immediately and I hesitantly followed her, glancing over the thing warily. I didn't like how it looked but we rode up smoothly, so I assumed it was perfectly safe.

We stepped off the elevator and I gasped. The whole building was huge and the walls were a dark mahogany wood, the floor was covered in beautiful rugs, a little table sat near us with a plant. I heard people running, young voices and laughter from what seemed everywhere. I glanced up, my mouth hanging open; I was amazed. The house, the mansion was beautiful…

Suddenly, there was a shout and I spun around, just catching a boy with slicked back, blonde hair shoot a football right at me. Sudden recognition flashed on his face but the ball was already flying, out of his grasp. Immediately, my body responded with my superhuman dexterity and reflexes. Suddenly the ball was flying straight to my face and the next heartbeat, I holding it, fingers curled tightly around it. I had barely moved.

The blonde hair boy's eyes widened in surprise.

"Whoa."

Another came up from behind the blonde kid; this new one had dark curls on his head and stared at us, apologies in his eyes. Jean gave both of them a long, stern look. I lowered the ball, rolling it between my fingers.

"Boys, you know the rules," she said.

"Yeah, yeah no throwing footballs in the place," the blonde kid said, waving off the matter like a fly. I glanced at them, taking in their sight. They couldn't be older than fifteen and maybe, if they were young looking for their age, sixteen. The blonde looked slightly older though.

"Can we have our ball back?" asked the blonde kid, jerking his head towards the brown football sitting in my hands. I rolled it once more in my hands and then, very gently, tossed it perfectly back to him. He flinched back as he caught it, glaring at me.

"Sure," I said, staring at them.

"Brooke, let's go," Jean said and I turned around, following after her.

We came to a giant set of doors and Jean opened them, allowing me to go through. Again, I was astonished by everything in the room. I saw similarities to my old home but everything here seemed… far more different. I finally focused in on the bald, older man sitting in a very technological wheelchair of some sort. He rolled forward after pushing down on a small lever and I leaned backwards slightly. I was a bit… overwhelmed by it but when he started speaking, I immediately lost interest.

"Hello Brooke. Welcome to my school for the gifted," he said.

The voice. That's all that echoed in my head. The voice.

"You're… a telepath," I murmured.

"I am able to do just more than read thoughts," he said, gesturing to a very comfy looking chair. After scanning it quickly I sat down.

_I can communicate with my mind with you, read memories also._

I blinked at him, shocked. I knew there were telepaths out there; I had never encountered one and being how older he looked, I'm guessing that he's had a lot of practice. He smiled at this and I couldn't help but smile too.

"So Brooke, do you understand what happened?"

I paused then started to speak.

"I have no idea, Professor…"

"Xavier," he said.

"I have no idea Professor Xavier. I just suddenly am being chased by Victor and then… I don't know. I'm in this pitch blackness… I can't physically feel anything but yet, I'm still feeling emotions and… and it's really hard to explain." I sighed unhappily, glancing nervously up at him.

"I would suspect so. And you do not have to explain. It was very confusing for all of us," he said, glancing at Jean, who stood near the door. "We were quite worried about you. It took some time before I was able to get into your mind, even at what I assumed was your weakest point. Mentally speaking of course…your mind was very resistant to my entering."

He paused, looked me in the eye and said, "Do you know where you are?"

I shook my head slowly but then quickly said, "At your school… for the gifted."

He nodded, relaxing in his chair.

"Brooke, I would like ask about the images I found in your head. And I do hope you accept my apology for searching through your memories without your permission but we of course, had to take in the safety for us and the children." I nodded, agreeing with him.

"But your images seemed to be of the future, am I correct?"

I nodded. "I can see the future as long as it's not directly related to me. I can see the future as a film, or just as sounds; sometimes blurry, and sometimes crystal clear- that normally means it's not too far off. Sometimes I'm in another person's perspective, feeling that person's emotions. Most of my visions come true; maybe because I rarely see random people in them. They're connected to me somehow. I just can't see _my _future."

The Professor nodded, approving of what I said; like it went along with what he saw. For a moment, I wondered why I was telling this man so much about myself but I brushed that aside. If anything, I can leave.

"Also," I continued, "if I'm in large groups of people, normally I 'pick up on' close friends and other people I may know and their futures. Sometimes my visions are like flashes, so sudden and quick I can only pick out a few details. But then I store them in… my… head. Like, a really long book and I can flip through them. Obviously, they're much blurrier but I can re-see them in a way."

I chewed my lip, my eyes darting around everywhere. "And if I always keep getting the visions, especially if they start blurry and then get clearer and clearer as time passes, if not change a bit, that normally is leading me to something… important."

Just like how I rescued Chris, I thought. The Professor glanced at me and I let my eyes fall.

_Chris does not know this. _He didn't ask this; he stated it.

He thought it was a random coincidence, a random and happy chance we met up. I knew Victor was coming.

I knew Victor was coming to kill him and I didn't tell him.

**Please review!**


	5. Chapter Five

******DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**A/N: *flails arms around* wait...déjà vu, lol. Anyways, an update! Thanks for the reviews and other people, for the favorites, story alerts and everything else! They're very appreciated :) Now enjoy!**

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The Professor looked up at Jean, not meeting my eyes. I felt like a little kid being called out for lying or at least, not telling the truth.

"Thank you Jean," he said. It was a dismissal. She glanced at me, gave a weak smile when I looked up and then left, closing the door behind her. It quietly clicked shut. The Professor then turned to me.

"Does he not know?" he asked.

I silently nodded.

"Do you wish to tell him?" he asked.

I immediately shook my head now and the words rushed out.

"No, no! It'll, it'll just upset him… maybe… I don't know." I rubbed my face, feeling tired again. "Maybe it was a mistake. I normally don't mix with my visions very often…." It pained me terribly to think of Victor hurting Chris, let alone anyone else close to me.

Professor Xavier frowned. "But you don't believe that."

I nodded and then felt myself freeze up; gradually my eyes looked up at him. My senses went on alert. I've heard that tone of voice; I've heard it many times. Stryker used it many times. My muscles seemed to tense and the Professor noticed.

"I'm terribly sorry; I didn't understand your history…"

I immediately caught the words. "_My_ history? Who else have you've been looking through?"

Professor rolled back to behind his desk and turned to face me.

"Chris allowed me to look through his memories when you were still unconscious. And I did not realize how this would affect you two when he arrived back."

The secrets were annoying me. I stood up, staring at him and trying not to be threatening.

"With all due respect, sir, who else?"

"Someone not important at this moment."

I sat back down immediately, rubbing my temples. So many secrets! But I decided not to bother the Professor anymore. If he wished to keep it a secret, then so be it. Hopefully, though, I'll find out who.

I shrugged, looking up at him.

"Okay," I murmured.

The Professor nodded and then spoke, "Well, this is a long talk for the beginning. You best go find Chris. I think there may be a incident in the kitchen at the moment."

I remembered- Chris controls electricity. And if my theory is correct… I shot up, waving goodbye to the Professor and burst through the doors, startling a teenage girl on the other side.

"Hey! Oh… I'm sorry." She had long, dark chocolate hair with one white streak of hair on ether side of her face. I stared at it before I looked at her face, trying to control myself. Her cheeks blushed slightly. She spoke with a small Cajun accent, I realized.

I shook my head, glanced down at the ground and then looked back up at her, smiling. "It's okay- I'm sorry. I was rushing…"

She frowned, looking over me and I noticed the gloves she wore.

"Are you…?"

"The woman Storm and Jean brought in?" I asked, already guessing at her question. She blushed slightly but then nodded.

"Yes. I'm Brooke." I offered my hand to shake, trying to just be polite and everything. She hesitated but then accepted it with a gloved hand and then suddenly, there were more shouts. We both looked at each other and then, letting her lead, we raced off towards the kitchen.

The scene we saw was rather quite funny. To say the least. A group of children were hiding behind an upturned table and Chris was sitting next to them. My stomach fluttered when I saw his longer hair and I suddenly felt mine. It was past my shoulders completely… what the hell?

Anyways, as soon as he saw me, a great huge grin came over his face. Then what I think was the toaster, completely went crazy. Spark flew from it and suddenly, very burnt pieces of toast popped out of the toaster. Rouge and I dove for cover, covering our heads as the thing finally settled down and smoke rose from it, triggering the small beeping noise from the smoke alarms.

I peeked from around the wall and then dared to get up, strode over to the toaster and raised my eyebrows. I let out a long whistle, turning to look at the group of young kids and Chris. They all started to come out like the little munchkins from the Wizard of Oz movies and I snickered at the comparison. I could see Chris hiding the excitement from his face for seeing me up and moving.

"Thank you," murmured a young boy with large glasses. I smiled and then quickly left the room, smiling apologetically to Rouge and Chris followed after me like a puppy and his wonderful master.

"You're awake!" Chris exclaimed as soon as we were out of earshot of the kitchen.

"Yes I am. And obviously, you're destroying the house…" I laughed, smiling at him. He shrugged.

"I-I was just trying to help the kids… and yeah. The electronics are so… more advanced from Ohio."

I nodded, feeling the happiness and humor slip away from the moment. The question hung on my head heavily and my tongue was almost flickering, it wanted to ask the question so bad. I looked up at him and he stared down at me.

Then I felt my lips tug into a smile.

"You've got hair now."

I pointed to his bangs and he blew them out, staring up at them.

"Yeah, I know. It's really odd," he said with his old English accent and gave me one of his silly grins.

"You're odd, Chris Bradley." I said, starting to walk down the hallways. I walked slowly, taking in the details of the home. It was completely different, weird… just out of the ordinary for me. Chris settled right next to me, his eyes darting around the home almost impatient.

"You seem to be impatient," I commented, pausing to look at a painting.

"I've seen the whole home. The younger kids dragged me around so much, I thought my arm would surely break."

I grinned. "I never knew you were a kid person." I turned to look at him.

He shrugged and then gave another smile. "I didn't know ether."

We walked on some more and Chris stayed silent. The silence wasn't his normal silence ether and I glanced at him. He seemed so much… well, alive for the lack of a better term. Was it because of Team X behind us? That Victor was gone?

Or… was it because he was with me?

I quickly changed the subject in my head.

"How long was I out?" I blurted, looking up at him.

He pursed his lips, glanced down and then looked back up at me. His eyes almost seemed apologetic. "Um. Three days, I think. It's a late afternoon on a Sunday and I think Storm and Jean found us on a Friday."

I halted, staring up at him in shock. "What- three days?"

He nodded, chewing his bottom lip. His old nervousness returned and I just felt overwhelmed again.

"Chris…"

"Brooke, I think you should talk-"

"Chris, what year is it?"

The question made him freeze up completely. His muscles (that he still had, I noted) stiffened nervously. We were still halted in the hallway, staring at each other. His eyes darted everywhere but gradually, settled right on mine. His voice was trying to be calm, but there was still a stutter in it.

"It-it's 2003. Brooke, it's 2003."

Oh. My. God. We time-traveled; no, _I _time-traveled… taking Chris with me.

**Cliche? Probably a lot :3 Do I like it? Very much! LOL. Review if you want to ;)**


	6. Chapter Six

******DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**A/N: Gawd, I've got to get writing on this thing- I have ideas, don't worry (Penn: though half of you may not like them; me: shhhh! be quiet penn!)- I just have been... urges (lol XD) to write another story. Which is why I type so far ahead (like 3 chapters or so) before I update.**

**Anyways, thanks for any reviews and so on! Next update hopefully sometime next early week!**

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"What?" I whispered, staring directly into his eyes.

Chris had to be lying… he had to be pulling my leg and just trying to get a good laugh… he… he…

"Brooke… are you okay?" he asked warily, his eyes widening as I let my face fall into my hands. I didn't know why but I started to cry. The tears rolled down my face. That meant so much more, it being 2003. So much more than he could've thought and known about.

"No! I'm not okay, Chris!" I snapped at him, not thinking before I was saying. He winced away from me. "It's 2003! My god…" I ran a hand through my hair, panic, chaos and everything just shattering and erupting in my head…

That explained everything. The way they talked, the way everything was so futuristic and Chris's mess with the electronics- they were from the future, he wasn't sure how everything worked. Everything fell into their rightful spots. I glanced at Chris, feeling terrible for my outburst.

His shoulders shagged and his bangs blocked a direct view to his eyes, so I couldn't see any emotion from that.

"Just… just leave me alone." I mumbled, walking in the opposite direction from the way we were going. I just kept walking, trying to wrap my head around the whole idea. Time travel? I thought it was impossible…

I shook my head and rubbed my eyes, shutting off the tears. They did nothing, they helped nothing and only made things worse, I suppose. They were useless. Completely and utterly useless. I wasn't sure how long I had been walking but after some time, I ran into someone. An older man, probably about my age, give or take a few years. He wore bright red sunglasses and had styled brown hair; I couldn't tell if he was watching me directly or just looking at me.

"You must be Brooke Reed."

I blinked at him and said, "Yes. And who are you?"

"Scott Summers," he answered. I glanced at his glasses.

"You're a mutant." He nodded, telling me I was correct.

"And so are you."

I nodded, gazing at him coldly. I wanted to be alone. No, I wanted to be home with Charlie or Emily or Jason or Rose or all of them. Away from here. This isn't home. This isn't _my_ home.

"What are your glasses for?" I asked politely.

"My power," he responded. I cocked an eyebrow, a bit irritated how he talked to me. Then again, I was the time-traveling mutant in his home, unknown and probably crazy, so I couldn't blame him.

"Ah," I murmured.

"Jean and Storm have a room ready for you, if you're staying here." He gestured over his shoulder, his gaze lingering on me. I nodded, thanked him and headed in that direction.

I found the women standing outside my supposed bedroom door, chatting quietly to each other. They turned at looked at me; both of their faces seemed apologetic.

"We're sorry but we couldn't help but over hear your conversation with Chris," Storm said, "and we just wanted to say…" Her voice trailed off.

"The Professor knew already that you time-traveled Brooke, that's the only way you could've gotten here like that. He told us and made us swear not to tell you. He then explained it to a very tired Chris the first night you were here. Chris's reaction to all the electronics we think is just his after effect of it."

I stared at Jean, my shoulders slouched and my body and mind exhausted. "Thank you," I mumbled, glancing at the door.

Jean straightened up from leaning against it, turned the knob and allowed me to go through. It was a very plain bedroom. It had a bed, a small closet and then a dresser, a desk with a lamp. A window view though; I believe we were at the back of the mansion. I wasn't exactly sure and I was still trying to make a mental map of the whole damn building. Jean said something and left, leaving me to soak in my room and leaving Storm leaning against my doorframe.

"How long do you plan on staying?" she asked.

I glanced at her and then shrugged. "Probably till I get a grasp on everything here. Then maybe venture out into the world…"

"Did you know you could time-travel?" she asked quietly, walking into the room with her arms folded across her chest. I shook my head.

"I just remember a white light…and then, these blurry… pictures I think…" The more I thought about it, the more I was forgetting! But I continued on anyway, picking out distinctive things. "I saw Chris, once I think. And then… I landed on something, like I awoke and rolled off the side of the bed. Then I became unconscious." I shrugged again.

She nodded, gazing out the window. My eyes followed hers and they rested on the glowing window. I strode over and peeked outside. Immediately, I noticed the stables and turned to face her.

"You guys have a stable?" I asked.

She nodded. "Why? Did you ride?"

"Yes. Before, everything…after…" I wasn't where to start so I stopped and pursed my lips. "I worked at a small animal shelter, I suppose. They had two horses that I rode. I also rode as a kid. So yes, I guess I do… ride."

She smiled and said, "We have a bunch of paths out back and we've been in need of a new instructor. Would you care to help me?"

I glanced at her, looking her up and down. I didn't see her as much of rider in these clothes, but now that I think about it… she was probably a pretty good one. I smiled and responded, "Sure. I would love too."

Storm smiled happily (I suspected they didn't have too many people running this place, let alone riding instructors). "I can get you some change of clothing, if you'd like. I mean, some stuff you can sleep in."

"Thanks… I would like that," I murmured. She walked off for some time and I stared out the window, watching the small amount of horses graze in the pastures below. I watched students chat and laugh with their friends. They were all mutants, I just knew it; I wished there was a place like this for me when I was younger.

Storm came back with a pair of shorts (I suspected nights were just as humid as Ohio's nights) and a tank top. I thanked her again as she left, saying goodbye and all. I gave a small gesture that was suppose to be a wave goodbye and walked over to my bed, falling onto it. Then I pulled myself up, changed into the different pair of clothing and then crawled back in.

Everything that I just learned swam in my head. It swam and it mixed, but I didn't forget it. No, I remembered each and single detail that Chris told me, what Storm and Jean explained to me, what I discussed with the Professor. Especially who could possibly be his secret person whose memories he's reading.

I sighed, snuggling in my head into my pillow. I pulled them around me, making a cocoon and breathed in the stale scent of fresh laundry-detergent. I made my breathing become slow and almost immediately, I fell asleep.


	7. Chapter Seven

******DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**A/N: It's an update! A miracle! I like updates, how about you? Back to writing this baby ;) Inspiration comes if you look hard enough! Thanks for any reviews given on the last chapter!**

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I tossed and turned, unable to escape into peaceful slumber. I plunged into nightmares of the past; I relived all the mutant killings Team X dealt, Logan leaving, how I saw John for the last time, how I imagined Victor killing off Wade. I could imagine Victor and Wade in a flurry and dance of death; Wade with his swords and Victor with his animalistic nails and instincts. I imagined Zero trying to outlast him, with all his inhuman jumping and try to kill him off with his guns but fail.

I could imagine Victor catching up with John, breaking him in half and tearing him apart. I could imagine Victor in a battle of brawn and brains with Fred; I could hear the dying screams, I could see the pleading looks in their eyes. I saw him and Logan face off. I saw the only way I thought Logan could die; his head rolled to my feet… I saw nothing more.

I screamed.

Then they all changed to: Chris. The Chris one was very real. I saw the lights again, I felt the humid summer's night air on my skin and making me sweat. I saw the trailer shake as Victor finished off his prey. I felt the blood splatter my face like mist and I started to scream. The scream was full of guilt and pain; I couldn't register that this wasn't real. This couldn't happen. It was 2003. Still, the scream scratched at my throat and made it burn and dry.

Suddenly, I was swimming.

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't… I couldn't… another scream escaped my lips, I was waking up now to notice that. As I slowly peeled my eyes open, I also noticed that I was entangled in a wild mess of my sheets. They were tossed and thrown about, half of them were on the floor and the small other half covered me. That and my clothing was sticking to me because I was actually covered in my own sweat.

Great. Humid, sticky, hot… just my night. I kicked the blankets away, stretching my legs quietly. I probably woke up half the mansion with all my screaming; thinking about the shrieks, I remembered… my throat was dry as the desert. But I didn't feel like getting a glass of water. So I'll just lay here and suffer because of my laziness, I thought tiredly to myself.

Then a small knock came on the door. Then the voice I wasn't expecting: "Brooke?"

Chris. My blood froze and butterflies started to flutter in my stomach, to say the least. My mind started to wander: why was he here? I hurt his feelings, I made him feel pain… my heart gave a squeeze, a very emotional and painful squeeze at the thought. I quickly straightened my shirt, my shorts and dragged myself out of my bed. Only then did I realize the wetness on my face and the salty taste on my lips.

I was crying in my sleep. I quickly wiped my eyes, trying to make it look like I was just really tired (and not so teary eyed). Then I grabbed the doorknob. At first, I paused as if I waited for it to electrify me or burn me alive, but… nothing came. Like a normal doorknob, I turned it and it opened. I let out a small sigh releasing air I didn't realize I was holding. I pulled the door open.

There he stood, clad in only a pair of shorts. Was it hotter where he was? He didn't have toned muscles like old times, he actually had a very slight chubbiness (that I seemed to find adorable) but he wasn't out of shape too bad. Then his hair; it was a wild mess on top of his head and it seemed only he could pull it off and make it look…sexy.

His whole body seemed to react vaguely similar to me as he eyed me very quickly. It was too quick to actually be able to accuse him of looking but slow enough, I caught his eye and he blushed a great deal.

"I-I heard... screaming… um…"

The awkwardness was back; not our comfortable silence just… awkwardness. As we both tried to recover our thoughts, the ones away not about the other, I bit my bottom lip and chewed it till he spoke again.

"I wanted to make sure… you were…okay," he murmured.

I nodded, glanced down at the ground and then forced myself to look at him.

"Thanks Chris… I'm…" okay, fine, perfect, the lies came quickly in my head; the ones that wanted to make me suffer alone but… another side pulled, tugged at me. It was too strong to resist. "I'm not okay."

A frown came on his forehead and I offered him access into my bedroom. After I pulled to the side, still holding the door, he walked through and I quietly shut the door. I padded almost silently over to my bed and sat on, my body suddenly remembering its lack of recent sleep.

"What's wrong?" he whispered, sitting close to me. I could just faintly feel his breath on the side of my face.

"All the visions… about… the future, that's now that past… they're coming back to me. I'm remembering John and the rest of them- how…" Am I strong enough to make myself vulnerable like this? "How Victor could kill them. I'm sorry if I woke you."

Chris, obviously not liking that he heard Victor's name, still approached closer to me. His leg brushed mine and our thighs were centimeters away from each other. I now could feel his breath on me and a shiver ran down my spine.

"It's okay… I wasn't sleeping well ether," he murmured, the nervousness obvious in his voice. "It's hard… to wrap my head… around this still. Like how we're still alive… Victor should've… Victor could've hurt… us, you… me…"

My god, he said us. That's all I could think about.

He looked up at me, his blue eyes staring right into mine. They seemed to pull me in, more and more and suddenly, I was trapped. But it was peaceful, heavenly to be swimming in his eyes. They were a great sea, pooling our fears together so we could face them together. His were like the image of a cool lake on a hot summer's day; the refreshing drink after a long run and the clear blue sky on a beautiful day. They… were everything I wanted to see… in him.

Suddenly, they darted away. His head looked down, a small frown crossing over his face. Inside, I was screaming. I wanted to stare into them until I was gone, until I didn't have to deal with all of this… I must've made him uncomfortable. Oh my…

"Look, I'm sorry Chris," the words babbled out rapidly, too fast so I couldn't catch them and bring them back, "I didn't mean to-" Then his face whipped around again. Our lips crashed together.

At first, both of us were kind of shocked. But slowly, he let his lips move instinctively and I allowed mine just to follow him in step. At first it was mechanical, like machines; I was replaying kissing scenes I had seen, wondering if ours was as graceful and heartwarming as theirs on screen. Suddenly, his started to move quicker and quicker, I had to keep up. We were doing a dance with our lips, a beautiful, lustful dance that would leave us both wanting more. Suddenly, I realized something vaguely important: I wasn't breathing.

I pulled back, gasping. There was still a very warm, blushing face inches away from mine. I didn't know what to saw. I didn't how… to speak anymore…

"Uh…" Chris said, his eyes avoiding mine. Suddenly, I was very lonely. The very hurt look in his eyes seemed to crush my heart; it crumpled and stomped on it, making it cry in pain. Why is he hurt? What did I do wrong?

"What-" I started and he shot up, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry," he kept murmuring and the quickly left, leaving only but his scent lingering and the memory of his lips against mine. There was a tingle that went through them when they remembered it. But he left...

I fell back onto my bed, curled up in a ball and just sat there. Alone, lost and confused but remembering that kiss all the same.


	8. Chapter Eight

******DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**A/N: Haha, another update! And I'm on a brand new shiny laptop :D Anyways (while I'll still get use to this odd keyboard- lol, you should've seen the mistakes I kept making trying to spell "anyways" XD) hopefully this will be on a normal update basis again ;) For now, enjoy this chapter!**

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The next few mornings were slow and difficult to get by. I rarely saw Chris and if I did see him, he was with someone. He never spoke to almost anyone and when I was miraculously within hearing distance, he gave simple, one-worded answers. And so, that loneliness struck me and I ended up sitting in on many classes.

I tried to catch up on the past, understand what happened while I was away, I guess you could call it. To be blunt, I would say I paid little attention to the classes but watched the kids instead. I memorized how rooms were set up and which hallway lead to what in the house. To the younger kids, who knew by now that I was in fact, a time-traveler, were astonished and amazed by it. But the older kids, they were far more wary around me, watching what I said and how I acted.

Looking for signs of a spy among them.

The two boys I met earlier, with the football, stuck to me with Rouge leading them. It seemed to her it was her duty to have me settle in and feel comfortable with the mansion.

"Hey, you coming?" called Pyro (actually, John was his real name) as I gazed out a window, staring at the stable. I nodded, pulled back from it and quickly caught up with them.

We wondered the place for some time, making sure Pyro didn't get into much trouble. When we arrived in the library, few students were in it. But I decided to see what books I've missed out on; as the three hung out, talking, I searched the bookshelves like there was no tomorrow. But I was merely enjoying the entertaining book covers and funny author names; too much was on my mind to read.

I came back out, empty handed and sat down on the opposite side from Pyro on the couch. Their conversation flowed away from me; it was a background murmur to me, talking about things I couldn't understand. My mind focused on Chris, the reason our… kiss ended like that. I couldn't understand why; was it me? Was it him? Was it not the right time? My head was clouded with these questions.

"Brooke? Brooke, Earth to Brooke!" Pyro snapped at me and I came back to the couch.

"What?" I mumbled, turning to see Storm wearing riding boots. I felt my face lit up and without a word, I followed after her.

"What was all that about?" I heard Pyro mutter behind me.

I think nether Bobby nor Rouge answered him; they wouldn't understand I think.

As I walked outside, I breathed in the scent of the fresh air, cool and soothing to my face and smiled at the sight of the horses grazing lazily in their pastures. They looked so peaceful, so undisturbed by the world and it's troubles. I envied themed; I envied them a lot.

"Brooke? How experienced are you?" Storm said as we entered the stable. There were open stalls to my right, just ropes strung across the two wooden, styled walls (that didn't even reach the roof) and horses hung their heads over them, whinnying to us. Then to my left, were enclosed stalls. I stroked the horses, scratched their forelocks and let them sniff my hands.

"I've ridden practically all my life," I said with a smile.

Storm gathered up the tack and immediately, I noticed it was English tack. I had never rode English tack before; I was all western, loose and fun. But it didn't look too difficult to master; I'm up for the challenge. Storm grinned at my frown towards the saddle and bridle.

"Never rode English before, have you?" she asked.

"Yeah, I rode Western always. It can't be too hard to get the hang of, right?" I asked, glancing up at her.

"We have Western tack if you want to try that first," she gestured towards the small closet-like area at the end of stable that was the tack room. I shook my head.

"I'll take the challenge first, Storm," I said with a big smile. She laughed and said, "All right. But don't blame me if you fall off."

We laughed together. That's when I realized how much I had missed this social interaction with people. Emily and Jason were like family to me. Who was I willing to extend that close friendship too? As I watched Storm pick out grooming supplies, I knew I could trust her.

"Who am I riding?" I asked, curious about her answer.

"You'll have to ride Hornet," she said, shuffling through the supplies and then came up with two brushes. "He can be a pain, but is also quite a sweetheart when he wants to be. Come, I'll show you him." She walked towards the end of the stables, near the stalls that were next door to the end of the stable.

A grey gelding stuck his out, yawned and looked at me lazily with deep brown eyes. His coat could've been called snow white if it hadn't been for the age induced pale freckles that covered his body. His dark grey mane was unruly and wild, probably from romping around the pasture.

"What breed?" I asked, patting his neck as he sniffed me.

"A Quarter horse I think; the professor got him from an animal shelter. Had him rehabilitated a bit and he was good as new," Storm said.

After an easy groom (he wasn't too dirty), we saddled up and lead them outside.

I quickly got on, remembering my lessons from Jack and the touch-ups from Emily. I landed lightly on his back and I just watched his ears flick back, annoyed by my presence. All I could think was: this guy and I are going to have some real fun. Of course, that's said with sarcasm.

He went at a slow walk, barely picking up his hooves as Storm got up onto her bay Thoroughbred gelding, Shawn. After warming up, Storm led me into the ring. That's when I noticed the small group of kids sitting around Scott with a bike. Because of the beautiful weather, he must've brought them outside for perhaps test rides with the students old enough. I also noticed who was among them- Chris.

Hornet pinned his ears back at me, irritated again and I heard him flick his tail like a whip. I gradually brought my attention back to him and allowed myself to relax in the English saddle. After feeling comfortable with his walk and fast walk, I urged him into a trot. He refused.

"Ah come on," I murmured and this time, dung my heels into his sides a bit more.

He didn't like that. He burst forward like a bullet and caught off so suddenly, I just slipped right off. I landed right on my butt somehow and as soon as I was off, Hornet stopped and turned to look at me, like he was almost laughing. Storm was but she rode up to me, still sniggering.

"Are you okay?" she said, a big grin plastered on her face.

"Just fine," I said, trying to appear angry but Storm's laugh was infectious and I started to giggle too. After a bit of catch-me-if-you-can with Hornet, I brought him back into the stable and this time, put the western tack on.

Now it was business; I refused to look like an idiot on this old boy.

"Now behave," I muttered to Hornet, who swiveled his ears at me like he was actually listening and I hopped on.

This time it went smoothly; it seemed, with the western tack, Hornet was a whole new creature. He did everything I asked, everything he responded happily to oblige to my commands. I smiled brightly, stopping next to Storm. She was grinning and her eyes seemed just as bright.

"You're definitely a natural with Western, I'll tell you that. But English? Could use a little work!" We both laughed and Hornet nickered at the exact right time, sending us again into a fit of laughter.


End file.
